Love By Design (4 page)

“It’s a daytime soap opera.”

He held back asking Ava for any possible auditions. Russ didn’t want to give Victoria any ammunition. Maybe when her precious Neil returned he’d ask Ava about any possible roles. For the hundredth time today, he questioned his decision to come to New York City instead of LA.

With the Pacific Ocean as its backyard, he’d feel closer to home and its laid back vibe suited him more. The endless jungle of towering buildings made him itch for the open spaces of the outback. Packed with people always rushing about, New York City’s hustle and bustle left him a bit stressed. He wondered what the bloody hell was the hurry? Americans lived to work while Russ and his fellow Aussies worked to live.

But he would give it time. His friend’s job offer at the club paid good money and would hold him over until he Americanized his accent, then he’d make his move to LA, and hopefully end up as successful as Hugh Jackman or Russell Crowe.
I’ll probably have to change my name.

And then there’s this gig with the beauty across from him. The producers actually wanted him to play up his Aussie accent, which he wasn’t too happy about, but it was a screen credit. And Design Intervention had a huge following.

In the meantime, he could pursue his lovely, but prickly co-host. What would she say when she found out he dances for the Thunder Down Under Male Revue?

Would she have fit? Or buy a ticket?

His first show had gone well. Russ could’ve had his pick among the ladies, but jet lag and today’s meeting held him back. Now all he could think about was giving Victoria a private performance and then her returning the favor.
Hot.

“Are you going to eat me or the burger?”

Damn, got caught staring.

“Ooh la la,” added Ava.

Russ thought a moment on a diplomatic answer, but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t help saying, “Darlin’, I didn’t know you were on the menu.”

“I’m not.”

“Too bad.”

He smiled as Victoria shifted in her chair.
Oh yeah, I’m getting to her.
Instead of picking up the burger, Russ lifted his beer and downed the contents. He winced, unused to the flavor of American beer. How he wished for a Victoria Bitter.
How ironic.

From now on she would always be linked with his favorite beer. But would it be a smoldering encounter he remembered when he raised a pint or a stinging rejection?

Maybe he’d ask his brother, Brody, to ship a case of tinnies over. Hard work would be required in convincing Victoria to give him a go. As a former pitchman for several VB commercials, he knew, ‘For a hard earned thirst, you need a big cold beer.’

In the back of his mind he wondered if he’d ever quench his thirst for the first female to challenge him since Emily Turner kicked him in the balls in primary school. The thought of Victoria’s sexy spiked heels and the damage they could do would keep him in check until she came around.

As Ava finished she asked for the check. When the waiter placed it on the table she smacked Russ’s hand as he reached for the leather folder, snatching it away from his grasp. “But—” he looked to Victoria for help. “I asked you two out for lunch.”

But it was Ava who responded as she handed the folder back to the waiter with her credit card. “I know what the show is paying you. You got robbed.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was the screen credit that mattered.”

Victoria smoothed out a wrinkle in the tablecloth. “This town is going to eat you alive with that kind of mentality.” Victoria looked him in the eye. “Money equals respect in New York.”

“Hallelujah, sister,” agreed Ava.

Russ didn’t. At least it shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t all about the money. He was trying to build a career, not an investment portfolio. Of course, he wasn’t about to spend down his hefty bank account he left back in Sydney. It was his safety net in case America wasn’t the land of opportunity for him. Besides, being a struggling actor in New York City was part of the experience. But instead of waiting tables, he was stripping.

The waiter returned with the bill, frowning at Russ as Ava signed the slip.

“This still doesn’t feel right.”

“Don’t worry, it’s a business expense.” Ava flung the credit card along with her copy of the slip into her purse and pulled out a business card, snapping it in her long, elegant hand, before waving it in the air like it was a golden ticket. “I have another appointment, but when Neil gets back give me a call and I’ll see if I can’t hook you up with something more lucrative.” She handed the card to Russ and stood, smiling at both of them. “Now you two have fun,” she added a wink before strolling to the exit.

Russ examined the card to avoid the awkward silence that followed. He looked up when Victoria cleared her throat.

“Ava’s the best. Once you’re her client she’ll go to the mat for you.”

“Go to the mat?” He tucked the card into the pocket of his shirt.

“Fight for you.”

He shook his head. “So how far is your studio from here?”

“A couple of blocks, but it’s not necessary. You’ll catch on. Think of it as on-the-job training.”

Did she realize how obvious she was acting? She wanted him to fail and without even thinking how it would affect her show. Instead of calling her on it, he decided diplomacy was called for. “I appreciate your faith in me, but I think I should see the design plan. Know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Of course, but—” Victoria began to argue.

“Great, then let’s head back to your place.” Strange. Did he just see a fleeting moment of panic cross her face?

Chapter 5

H
er place?
The way his voice lowered, like a new found lover, made the proposition seem more like a tryst than a simple business meeting.
Simple? Ah!

Her lunch settled heavily into her stomach. She was thankful the giddy feeling the one and a half cosmos produced had faded. Or was it from all the talk of Australian kisses and dongers that made her feel so? Or the sexual attraction radiating between the two of them? Probably a combination. No matter, with her brain now clear, she could deal with Mr. Aussie.

“Yes, to my studio,” she said a little louder so the patrons of Brooks wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Little did they or Russ know that ‘her place’ was the apartment above Victoria’s Divine Designs. As they ducked out of the restaurant a photographer tried to take their picture. She raced down the block and left Russ to keep up with her. Victoria couldn’t understand the paparazzi’s continued fascination with her. Sure, her family was rich and the design show was a hit but she wasn’t a party girl. At least, not any longer. Okay, so she liked to go out every now and then. But did it have to be a headline? Did they have to print the most unflattering photos of her? She desperately wished Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan would do something, anything, so they’d leave her alone.

“I don’t get it. Don’t we want publicity for the show?”

She looked back just in time to catch him staring at her backside, but she kept on running as he jogged behind her. “Only if it’s planned.”

“Planned?”

“Controlled.” She turned again. This time he was shaking his head like it explained everything. He probably thought she was a control freak. He would be right.

“How do you run in those things?”

“It’s an acquired skill.”

“Impressive.”

She slowed as they reached a throng of people on the street. Russ placed his hand on the small of her back as they weaved through the crowd. Her spine stiffened at his touch.
Oh, no, that tingling feeling is back. Go away.

“This is it.” They reached the storefront. As she sucked in some air, she wondered what Russ, who breathed unhampered, thought as he examined the display window. Though why she cared, she couldn’t explain, but was fully pissed that she did. His opinion should mean nothing to her. But as she scrutinized the monochromatic design she knew it was good, that half of her business was walk-ins was a testament to it.

“Bonzer.”

Victoria gave him a questioning look.

“Great or terrific.”

“Oh.” She held back a grin. She couldn’t let him see that his praise meant something to her, even as her stupid pride swelled at his compliment.

“Can’t wait to see the inside.”

Inside?

Her hands shook as she reached for the keys in her purse. This was it. Once she unlocked the door and they stepped in, they’d be alone. No agent. No producers. No waiters or New York City crowds. She steadied her hand and opened the door.

Victoria took several steps in and turned on the lights. As she located the design boards for tomorrow’s show she heard Russ shut the door. Her stomach clenched.

He started to whistle and she looked up to see him scanning her studio. Streamlined in stainless steel countertops and columns, the place had an industrial chic sheen except for the touches of pink and gray fabric. To the left, carpet and tile samples, to the right, paint chips in every color imaginable. In the back, art boards set up in various stages of completion. Miniature models of several finished designs for the show took up the middle of the store.

Russ stood in the midst of it all. A perfect model of man, but not so miniature and oh, so real. Victoria knew she’d never get the picture out of her head.
Damn, I’m going have to re-design my studio.
And damn, she liked it just the way it was.

“It’s you.”

“Yes, it was.” She sighed as her head swam with new ideas for a remodel. He gave her a confused look and before he formed the question, she lifted the boards onto a drafting counter. “Here they are.”

As Russ swung around the corner of the table, she took a step back.

“Do you have the before shots?”

Did he think she was an amateur? “Of course. They’re on the bottom.” She winced at the snipping tone of her voice.

“You know this would be a lot easier if you actually explained these to me and tell me what I’m responsible for.”

From the exasperated tone of his voice, he probably thought she was a hard-ass, but better he thought that than the real reason. She didn’t trust herself to stand so close to him. What if they touched accidentally?
Or on purpose? Damn, what if I grabbed his cute ass?

Victoria took a deep breath and stood next to him. His fresh seashore scent surrounded her as if she’d just taken a dip in the ocean. If she tilted her head up would he kiss her? Her breath caught in her throat. She would not look up. She forced herself to concentrate on the sketches and explained them to Russ in detail. Now, in her element, she forgot her nerves. “So, can you build out these bookcases?” She risked a swift glance up and his heated gaze caught hers.

“No worries, luv.”

Victoria frowned, but let the endearment pass. It didn’t mean anything anyway. He’d probably said it a hundred times a day. Still her stomach felt like a dozen seagulls taking flight, all going after a single breadcrumb. She shouldn’t have looked up at him. And she shouldn’t have asked, “And you’re proficient with power tools?”

“Yep, I know how to work a drill.” He smiled.

“Save the corny clichés for the show.” She gathered up the designs and put them away.

“Just working on our chemistry.”

Chemistry?
She didn’t have to work on it; she needed to disguise it.

He pointed to the stairs in the back. “What’s up there?”

“My apartment—” Crap, she should’ve told him it was storage.

“That’s convenient.”

Did she see a glimmer in his eyes? Yep, there it was. He was trying to make up his mind whether to kiss her or not. No, not whether, but how to go about it. Like a wolf sizing up his prey, figuring out the best way to attack.

Usually she was the huntress and she didn’t like being on the other side of the equation. Not at all. Maybe she should go on the offensive. That would really trip him up. Did he see a spark in her eyes as she thought about taking him on the counter? She imagined the cold steel on her bottom as he pumped into her. She bit her lip slightly, desperately wanting to rub her legs together to ease the ache swelling at her core.

He took a step closer, his light brown eyes still unsure.

She would take the next several steps and take control. The world operated just fine when she did. Besides, Neil would be back in what, two weeks at the most? A quickie with Russ would resolve any sexual tension on the set. With the deed done they could settle into their roles as co-hosts. Decision made, the muscle in her leg twitched as she went to move forward. She jumped as the doorbell chimed.
Oh, thank God.

The customer didn’t know it yet, but it was her lucky day. As reward for saving Victoria from making a very big mistake, she would take ten, no, twenty percent off the bill. Instead of closing the distance between her and Russ, she turned and walked to the front of the store to greet her new client, a well-coifed elderly lady with bluish gray hair. “Hello, welcome to Victoria Divine Designs.”